


the only time

by socorro



Series: year by year [1]
Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Abe's Trying His Best, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cute and Sweet and a Little Horny, Getting Together, M/M, Making Out, Omega Abe, Omega Mihashi, Omega/Omega Relationship, Third Years, pre-heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23869165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/socorro/pseuds/socorro
Summary: “Shit,” Abe groans when he wakes feeling warm and shaky. He rolls over onto his stomach and presses his face into his pillow, the first hint of his heat clinging and dragging against his skin. He’s gonna have to miss the next game, he realizes miserably.
Relationships: Abe Takaya/Mihashi Ren
Series: year by year [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119545
Comments: 17
Kudos: 103





	the only time

**Author's Note:**

> oh hey it's me again. i’m working on the next chapter of _lamp light_ but in the meantime, here’s this.

“Shit,” Abe groans when he wakes feeling warm and shaky. He rolls over onto his stomach and presses his face into his pillow, the first hint of his heat clinging and dragging against his skin. He’s gonna have to miss the next game, he realizes miserably. 

The team gives him space during morning practice. A few first years stare at him with obvious shock. Abe was very thorough when applying scent blockers before he left, but his situation is clear to anyone observant enough. Abe studiously ignores them and is able to concentrate without too much extra effort. But by the end of practice everyone’s scents are kicked up so high that he can feel a headache pressing against his skull. He sits in the dugout and waits until the locker room is clear enough for him to handle.

The team trickles out slowly, yelling goodbyes to each other. He sees Mihashi’s messy head bob out and calls out before he can stop himself.

Mihashi stumbles over, eyes wide. Mihashi smells like sweat and grass, heavy like clay. Abe notices the way his nostrils flare as he scents the air. “Abe,” he says and doesn’t say anything else.

Abe reaches a hand out and Mihashi jumps to tangle their fingers together. His hands are warm and calloused against his. Abe lifts his hand higher until Mihashi gets the hint. He shuffles into the V of Abe’s legs, close enough to lean down and presses his cold nose against the sensitive gland. He scent marks Abe thoroughly, with a pleased little hum, lips occasionally dragging against his skin. Abe shivers, sees it in the way his hand shakes in Mihashi’s. They both ignore it. Mihashi grabs Abe’s other wrist and does the same.

“Thanks,” Abe hums, squeezing their hands together once before letting go.

“O-of course,” he says, and stares. 

Abe snorts a laugh and knocks his head back against the dugout wall, watches in satisfaction as Mihashi’s gaze jumps to his exposed throat. He feels floaty, like he’s already a little gone. He has to be careful because Mihashi has his teeth caught in his lips and he can’t drag his eyes away. Abe takes in how close they’re standing, how heavy his stare must be, and feels helpless against stopping it. For once, between the dozens of moments like this shared between them, he wants to _push_. And that feeling inspires an anxious sort of excitement to pop up like goosebumps against his flesh, the simmering hormones of his heat emboldening and dangerous.

Mihashi’s fidgeting fingers draw Abe’s gaze down to where they’re tangled in the hem of his shirt, wrinkling the fabric. His eyes drift back up lazily, following the thick veins in his arm, the stretch of fabric across his chest, at the sheen of sweat against his neck. Mihashi’s undoubtedly delicate in many ways but there’s a deceptive strength about him too, little hints of it that catches every time Abe notices. Mihashi makes a little sound in the back of his throat and Abe flicks his eyes back up to a Mihashi that looks even more bewildered than before. He’s flushed and wide-eyed, mouth open like a cat following a scent, chasing it on the back of his tongue and roof of his mouth.

Abe smells undoubtedly of desire.

The embarrassment that would normally flood Abe evades him completely.

“Are there a lot of people left?” Mihashi scrambles obediently away to check and Abe watches him go. 

_Fuck_ , he thinks desperately, slouches low on the hard bench until the edge of it cuts uncomfortably into his neck. It’s way too early for this shit. He needs to fucking calm down.

It’s getting worse every year, his carelessness. And now, deep into their last season together, he can’t stop thinking about how it’s nearly the end. If they go to different schools, move to different places; how easy will it be for their paths to diverge completely? For this thing that’s been brewing between them to go out before it ever really began?

The pitcher quickly pops back out to tell him the lockers are empty. He waves Mihashi away and finally makes his way inside. He strips hastily and climbs into the showers, turning the water as hot as it will go. He leans against the slick tiles, nose pressed to his wrist and inhales their mingled scents until he’s dizzy with it.

He groans and runs both hands under the spray of water, scrubbing until he’s sure they’re clean. Too dangerous, to sit through class like that, despite how much his instincts thrill at it -- at the thought of having the omega’s scent all over him, claimed and _obvious_.

“Ugh,” Abe groans and knocks his head hard against the tile wall.

*****

“Hey,” Abe says and swoops to wrap an arm across Shun’s neck.

“What -- _Ew_ , you’re _sweaty_!”

Abe drags him to the sofa and plops them both down. Shun huffs and squirms under his arm, struggling fruitlessly until he slumps in defeat. They stay like that for a while, Shun pouts and scrolls through his phone dejectedly but doesn’t try too hard to escape. Their mom drifts through and pauses when he sees both of them.

“Save me,” Shun simpers. Abe rolls his eyes and frees his little brother. Shun darts up immediately and runs to his room.

“Everything okay?” his mom asks. Abe nods silently.

She comes around the back of the sofa and gently brushes a hand through Abe’s hair. Warmth floods him, her scent strong and familiar, same for as long as he can remember. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back.

She coos and Abe practically melts into the cushions. It took them both a while to get to this point. He was 13 when he first presented, and by that age already cringing away from affection like this. It embarrassed him in the beginning, the way his heat made him crave touch the way he never normally does. Made him needy, cracked open and vulnerable sometimes. Distracted and fuzzy. People weren’t expecting him to be an omega and while Abe got over it without too much trouble, others seemed stuck on the issue. Either fascinated or put off by the fact that he’s not this simpering sweet-smelling stereotype.

His mom swipes delicate fingers across his brows and Abe lets the tension ease from him. He opens his eyes to see her observing him quietly.

“Dinner’ll be ready in a minute.” She says finally.

“Okay.”

She leaves and Abe sits in a sluggish haze, body feeling hot and heavy. His dad drops his jacket over his head and walks off without saying anything. Abe sticks his arms through the sleeves and pulls the hood up until it flops over his eyes, let’s the powerful woodsy scent drift over him. He sinks further into the cushions and thinks uselessly about the homework he has to finish.

“Will you make it to school tomorrow?” His mom asks over the dinner table.

Abe stops to consider. This one feels a little different, he has to admit. A little overwhelming, with how quickly it developed. Still, it’s not too bad yet, just simmering under his skin. He’s handled worse.

He gets ready for bed in a daze and shuffles to his room to find Shun’s blanket tossed onto his bed, the same one he’s had since he was five. He shrugs off his dad’s jacket and adds it to the mix, very consciously _does not_ start nesting, and passes out nearly as soon as his head hits his pillow.

*****

“Ren,” he calls. Mihashi turns to him, shocked. Abe woke up pretty clear headed, no worse than the morning before, but practice has him feeling grated. His thoughts constantly slip back to the humming satisfaction he felt with Mihashi’s scent all over him yesterday. He thinks, belatedly, that maybe he should’ve stayed home after all. But he’d always been able to make it through the first few days and is determined to do the same now. 

Abe takes Mihashi’s hand and drags him out of the field around the back of the clubhouse. He leans hard against the wall, pulls Mihashi against his front.

“Wh- Abe! W-wait,” he’s wide-eyed and startled. Abe growls, fists his hands at the fabric of Mihashi’s shirt and pulls until their chests bump together and their legs intertwine. He bares his neck. Mihashi freezes and seems lost for words.

“Don’t _bite_ ,” Abe hurries, mortified. “Just- Like yesterday- Just-”

“A-are you sure? With me?”

“Yes,” he hisses. He gentles his grip, bites back the desperate need threatening to bubble over down to a harmless simmer. He meets the pitcher’s eyes and says evenly, “With you.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Mihashi breathes, flushing prettily. He bites his lips, brings a hesitant hand up to cup Abe’s neck, thumb pressing fleetingly against the swollen scent gland. Abe sucks in a huge breath as his scent bursts out.

“Oh wow,” Mihashi gasps, and swipes his thumb across once more. Abe bites back a smile and gives another tug, doesn’t care how needy he’s being as long as he can get the omega’s scent on him again. Wants to be covered by him, wants everyone to _know_. He can’t quite swallow back the sigh that spills from his lips when Mihashi finally moves forward, caging him against the wall just like Abe wanted. The pitcher looks awed, like he’s surprised to be allowed here. _Who else would be_ , Abe thinks in frustration. Who else has he wanted like this? Who else would he invite?

Abe lets his eyes slip closed, stretches his neck an inch further. Mihashi breathes in loudly and lurches forward. His breath puffs warm against Abe’s neck and he dips his head to nuzzle sweetly. Warm satisfaction immediately bursts through Abe. His pulse rabbits in his chest and like this, he’s sure Mihashi can feel it.

“Don’t bite,” Abe says again. 

“I won’t,” Mihashi promises.

But, fuck, it feels so much better than he thought it would. He’d never let anyone else do this. Abe groans, the first licks arousal drips hot in his belly. He shifts closer until Mihashi’s thigh is pressed right against him. Mihashi makes a sound low in his throat, moves to crowd more firmly against Abe.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Abe moans, grip tightening around Mihashi’s waist. The pitcher pulls away abruptly, stammering. “S-sorry! Was that? -- I don’t--”

“It’s fine,” Abe interrupts, soothing a hand up Mihashi’s side. “You’re good, come back.”  
He comes back. Abe doesn’t hump his leg like his stupid hindbrain insists, but he sits his weight against the pitcher and thinks about the potential for more. Let’s Mihashi scent mark him so thoroughly that it’ll probably last through his next shower. Startles when Mihashi plants a kiss against his throat, surprisingly firm. Greedy, Abe immediately wants more. He winds a hand through Mihashi’s hair and groans when he’s granted a second kiss, seconds longer than the first. His body feels tight and hot, like too many hours sat in the sun. He swallows thickly, eyes squeezed shut.

Mihashi squeaks and is suddenly ripped away. 

“What the fuck,” Abe yelps, eyeing Tajima who has Mihashi by the back of his shirt.

“That’s my line!” Tajima cries. “What the fuck?!”

Abe growls. His mood plummets _fast_. It leaves him feeling shaky. He can smell his own arousal thick in the air, knows he’s half hard in his pants and feels _exposed_ without Mihashi’s warm heat planted against his front. Abe closes his hands into tight fists and scowls.

Tajima’s eyes go wide and he let’s Mihashi go. Mihashi scrambles back to Abe and shoots a glare at Tajima.

“He should go home,” Tajima says, ignoring Mihashi’s lukewarm venom. “His scent is...” Tajima stops and gets a pinched look.

“He’s right here,” Abe says from the circle of Mihashi’s arms, irritation bubbling.

“You smell very good Abe but it’s _distracting_.”

Abe smirks and raises one leg to hook around Mihashi. Mihashi’s eyes swivel to Abe, wide as saucers, but his hand moves to hold Abe’s leg up as if by instinct. This effectively derails Abe’s entire train of thought. He very poignantly notes how closely their hips are now pressed together. Tajima sighs loudly from where he stands.

Abe ignores it, can’t break his eyes away from Mihashi. Mihashi looks like he’s on the verge of apologizing again but Abe stops him before he can. He knocks their foreheads together, thinks _Please_ with every fiber of his being as he presses his lips to the corner of Mihashi’s, barely anything at all. Mihashi gasps against him, his grip growing tight, breath ghosting hotly against Abe’s cheek. Pulse hammering, Abe kisses him again, presses against those slightly parted lips and thrills when Mihashi eagerly reciprocates.

Abe cups Mihashi’s face between his hands and enthusiastically smothers the omega’s lips with his own. 

“ _Hello_?!” Tajima yells frantically, slapping his hand loudly against the wall. He looks trapped somewhere between bewildered and turned on. “ _I’m still here_!”

“S-sorry,” Mihashi stammers and his face has gone red. Abe’s eyes drop to his lips as if they’re tied by a string. They’re wet and pink and worth all of his attention. He’s starting to get that floaty feeling again, like he’s coasting just outside of his body. He thinks, with surprisingly little remorse, that he’s probably lost all forms of higher thinking by this point. Mihashi’s scent is a veil shrouded against his skin, enticingly sweet. He wants the omega to press him back against the wall and kiss him until he can’t breath.

“ _Abe_!” Mihashi gasps, scandalized, and Abe dumbly realizes he said that out loud.

“Ugh, I’m letting Hanai deal with this. _Oh my god_.” Tajima groans and storms off.

Abe laughs lowly. Mihashi throws him a look and he can’t tell if it’s amused or chiding. Abe doesn’t consider it too much because he yanks Mihashi into another kiss. Mihashi arches against him and Abe is immediately breathless all over again, drowned in the face of Mihashi’s desire. They kiss clumsy and desperate. Abe’s thoughts extend no further than the soft slide of Mihashi’s lips, his sweet little sounds when Abe does something he likes, how firmly he’s still _holding Abe’s leg up_. 

“Abe.”

Abe groans loudly at the second interruption. It’s Hanai this time. The captain’s gaze jumps between the two of them before settling on Abe. He notes the complete lack of surprise on the alpha’s face.

“Go to the nurse’s for now. I’ve updated Momokan on the situation, you’re sitting this practice out.”

“Fine,” Abe grumbles.

“You too,” he says to Mihashi. “Go with him.”

“B-but-”

“It’s fine. Just make sure he gets there alright. _Stop making out already_!”

Mihashi blushes and drops Abe’s leg. Hanai doesn’t leave until Mihashi takes his hands and drags Abe away. He lets himself be guided to the main building. At this early hour, the school is nearly empty and they reach the nurse’s office without encountering anyone.

“Oh,” the nurse looks up from her desk, coffee halfway to her mouth. “Oh! Come in. Mihashi, how are you?”

Her gaze switches to Abe and she immediately starts fussing. Abe answers her questions quietly. She moves to check his temperature and smiles kindly when Abe turns away from her touch. Abe drops his gaze, hears Mihashi ask if Abe could lie down and settles on the bed Mihashi leads him to. Mihashi seems to dither for a second, before gently closing the curtains.

Abe strips off his practice jersey, feeling too warm, and Mihashi stares at him from a few steps away.

“Come here.” He waves him closer and is relieved when Mihashi comes. His brows are pinched slightly in concern. 

“A-are you feeling okay,” Mihashi asks gently.

“Yea,” Abe says foggily. He leans his head against Mihashi’s shoulder. The earlier arousal has simmered down to a manageable hum but being close to the omega still ignites a warm pleasure in him.

“Is this -- usually--?”

Abe sighs, and tries to think of an answer. Mihashi’s an omega too, but his experience has been a little different. It came up only once, the fact that Mihashi went on suppressants after his very first heat and hasn’t had one since then. Abe never got the details about it and has never pushed to get them. Just felt humbled as usual, being trusted with another precious part of the pitcher.

“It’s different for you,” Mihashi had muttered sadly. And Abe could say nothing towards that. He knows he presents differently than Mihashi, doesn’t have to deal with half the things the other omega probably does. But this heat is notably unlike his previous ones. It’s like his body is telling him to hurry up. _Get your shit together before it’s too late_ , it’s saying. Abe has mixed feelings about being bullied like this.

“Abe?”

Abe shakes himself back into the present, pulls back to stare into hazel eyes.

“Was it too much?” he hears himself ask.

“W-what?” Mihashi startles.

Abe drops his gaze to his lap. He pulls Mihashi’s hands into his, tracing the calluses on his fingers. Mihashi let’s him, doesn’t say a word, but Abe can feel his eyes heavy on him. Even through the haze he can recognize the gravity in his next words.

“It’s not just the heat,” Abe asserts softly. He hopes Mihashi gets it, prays deeply that he understands. They’ve always struggled to talk to each other, always miscommunicated and misunderstood, and Abe’s been afraid that this moment would be like so many others.

“This,” he squeezes both of Mihashi’s hands. He leans up and presses a kiss on the omega’s cheek, heart thumping fondly when he leans into it just slightly. “And this.”

Mihashi inhales sharply. “I -- I know,” he says, voice caught with emotion, eyes going bright and shiny. And it feels so easy.

The years of tension and doubt slipping away like a mirage, like they were never there. But he knows how hard they both worked for this, how they toiled and struggled to learn each other, adjusting, helping, and hurting in equal parts. Maybe this wouldn’t have worked outside of this moment.

Mihashi throws his arms around Abe, hugs him more tightly than he ever has. Abe hugs him back, feeling a burning in his own eyes. Oh god, is he going to cry? Mihashi presses a kiss against his lips, softer than anything else they’ve shared today. Abe might cry.

“I like you,” Mihashi sighs against his skin. 

“Good,” Abe says, hugging him back. 

****

Abe must fall asleep because next thing he knows he’s being shaken awake.

“Taka.”

Abe opens his eyes blearily. The room’s dim with the curtains drawn shut. Mihashi’s hand sits heavy on his shoulder.

“I have to go -- to class.”

“Okay,” he hears himself say. Sleep is dragging him under again. He opens his eyes, doesn’t know how much time has passed, but Mihashi is still there, staring at him. Abe feels his brows furrow.

“Don’t be late.”

“Ah,” Mihashi jolts up straight, cheeks pink, “Right. I’m -- I’m going.”

He takes a few steps towards the curtain. “Momokan is -- she called your mom and can drive you home. The -- the nurse will let your teachers know.”

Abe grunts. Mihashi seems to wait for a further response so Abe makes the effort to sit up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He wants to be home and wrapped up in his blanket.

“I can wait with you?” Mihashi offers.

Abe shakes his head. “No, go to class.”

Mihashi doesn’t go. Abe slips his jersey back on, hoping it’ll encourage the pitcher to leave. Pointedly buttons it back up when Mihashi just stands there. Abe slowly raises a single brow.

All at once Mihashi steps back over to him, grabs him by the shoulders and kisses him hard. Their teeth clack together and Abe hastily guides them into something not quite so painful. He moans when Mihashi tongues hotly at his lips, let’s the heat boiling in his gut embolden him into opening up. Mihashi licks into his mouth, exploring eagerly. His hands flutter restlessly across his sides, down his back, fingers dipping into the valley of his spine, glancing briefly just above the swell of Abe’s ass. Abe takes it all, greedy for it. Thinks _Finally_ with every inch of his being. The next handful of minutes pass in a blur of hands and lips and teeth.

Mihashi puts a knee up onto the mattress and starts to climb over Abe when Abe pushes him away, breathless. “Nope,” he says frantically. Abe has absolutely reached his limit. He will not be able to contain himself if Mihashi gets him _on his back_ in this bed. Just the thought of it has his face stinging with heat. He pulls Mihashi’s hand away from where it migrated to his stomach and inched slowly under his shirt. Mihashi blinks down at him, like he doesn’t know why Abe stopped.

“Go to class,” Abe yelps, pushing at the omega’s stubborn weight. "Go!”

Mihashi gives him one last kiss and scrambles away. Abe flops back onto the mattress and presses his hands over his eyes. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to calm down. 

He mournfully dreads how hellish the next few days will be.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry i always throw tajima between them lol he doesn't mean to fuck things up i swear. these three are just destined to have huge misunderstandings all the gd time.
> 
> something about this quarantine life has got me back into oofuri. stay safe, everyone!
> 
> follow me at socorro-me.tumblr.com


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